Agent 47 & Three Quarters
by Sliverballer 47
Summary: Agent 47 is executing a contract on Privet Drive when he witnesses Dumbledore dropping off Harry Potter. Agent 47 Decides to take the child and raise him as his son and apprentice. Grey and powerful Harry.
1. Privet Drive

(A/N) Apparently FanFiction won't accept a title of Agent 47 & 3/4, sigh. Anyway I don't own Harry Potter or the Hitman Series.

My Harry in this story will be a grey and powerful, but not super powered Harry. Something along the lines of magic is like a muscle and Harry will be receiving early training and exercise. In this story Harry will kill both as a contract assassin and a warfighter, but he will not kill anybody and everybody at the slightest insult (as much as I would personally enjoy seeing Malfoy bite it his second day at Hogwarts).

* * *

In the idyllic town of Little Whinging, Surrey murder was about to be committed. The contract assassin sometimes known as Agent 47 crouched by the window of the empty house he had borrowed for this kill. 47 was currently inside number 10 Privet Drive watching his target's house across the street. Susan Wesley was an engineer for the Grunnings Drill Manufacturing Company who had caused severe problems for her boss because of her complaints and suspicions about her boss's actions. This was a problem and she had to be eliminated. Susan's boss had heard rumors of the International Contract Agency from his old friends at Smelting's Academy and after some digging had promptly contacted them to eliminate his problem.

47 watched thorough his high power spotting scope as his target poured herself a drink and prepared for her night bath. He watched as Susan climbed into the bath and took a sip of her bourbon. For the next 5 minutes he watched as she relaxed and waited for the powerful barbiturate he had slipped into her bourbon bottle earlier today took ahold as Susan slowly passed out and slipped beneath the surface of the water never to rise again. To the police it would look like she made the fatal mistake of missing alcohol with sleeping pills and accidentally drowned in her tub. After 47 sterilized the house he was in of all traces of his presence he would swap out the poisoned bottle of bourbon for a clean one he had bought earlier this week.

* * *

47 had his hand on the door knob to leave Susan's former home when he heard a muted pop and quickly ducked behind cover and drew his suppressed custom Silverballer pistols. He peaked out of a crack in the window shades and watched as an old man with a long silver beard wearing what appeared to be robes drew out what appeared to 47 as a silver cigarette lighter from his robes and clicked it. Agent 47 was stunned when one by one all the lights in the immediate vicinity flew into the old man's sliver lighter. With his vision reduced to indistinct blurs 47 drew from a pocket a night vision monocle and a listening device. He was curious who this man was and how he eliminated the light sources on this street.

47 then watched and listened as the old man turned to a tabby cat across the street and said "Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall." 47 was stunned as the tabby cat quick morphed into an aged severe looking woman who was also wearing an emerald cloak over her robes. 47 continued to listen in to their conversations as he was double checking that the devices were recording the exchange.

"How did you know it was me?" she asked.

"My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."

"You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day," said Professor McGonagall.

"All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here."

47 saw the figure he had identified as Professor McGonagall sniff angrily. "Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right," she said. "You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no - even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news." She jerked her head back at the Dursleys' dark living-room window. "I heard it. Flocks of owls... shooting stars... Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent - I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense."

"You can't blame them," said the old man gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."

"I know that," said Professor McGonagall irritably. "But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumors."

She threw a sharp, sideways glance at the old man, as though hoping he was going to tell her something, when he didn't, so she went on. "A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really has gone, Dumbledore?"

"It certainly seems so," said the man 47 now knows to be Dumbledore. "We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?"

"A what?"

"A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of"

"No, thank you," said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for lemon drops. "As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone -"

"My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You- Know-Who' nonsense - for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort." Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two lemon drops, seemed not to notice. "It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who.' I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name.

"I know you haven 't, said Professor McGonagall, sounding half exasperated, half admiring. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know- oh, all right, Voldemort, was frightened of."

"You flatter me," said Dumbledore calmly. "Voldemort had powers I will never have."

"Only because you're too - well - noble to use them."

"It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs."

Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said, "The owls are nothing next to the rumors that are flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"

It seemed that Professor McGonagall had reached the point she was most anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been waiting on a cold, hard wall all day, for neither as a cat nor as a woman had she fixed Dumbledore with such a piercing stare as she did now. It was plain that whatever "everyone" was saying, she was not going to believe it until Dumbledore told her it was true. Dumbledore, however, was choosing another lemon drop and did not answer.

"What they're saying," she pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumor is that Lily and James Potter are - are - that they're - dead. "

Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped.

"Lily and James... I can't believe it... I didn't want to believe it... Oh, Albus..." Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "I know... I know..." he said heavily.

Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potter's son, Harry. But - he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke - and that's why he's gone. "

Dumbledore nodded glumly.

"It's - it's true?" faltered Professor McGonagall. "After all he's done... all the people he's killed... he couldn't kill a little boy? It's just astounding... of all the things to stop him... but how in the name of heaven did Harry survive?"

"We can only guess," said Dumbledore. "We may never know." Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles. Dumbledore gave a great sniff as he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge. It must have made sense to Dumbledore, though, because he put it back in his pocket and said, "Hagrid's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"

"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here, of all places?"

"I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now."

"You don't mean - you can't mean the people who live here?" cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four. "Dumbledore - you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son - I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry Potter come and live here!"

"It's the best place for him," said Dumbledore firmly. "His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter."

"A letter?" repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand him! He'll be famous - a legend - I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter day in the future - there will be books written about Harry - every child in our world will know his name!"

"Exactly," said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. "It would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he won't even remember! Can you see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it?"

Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed, and then said, "Yes - yes, you're right, of course. But how is the boy getting here, Dumbledore?" She eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding Harry underneath it.

"Hagrid's bringing him."

"You think it - wise - to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"

I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore.

"I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place," said Professor McGonagall grudgingly, "but you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to - what was that?"

A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky - and a huge motorcycle fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them.

If the motorcycle was huge, it was nothing to the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply too big to be allowed, and so wild - long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of trash can lids, and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins. In his vast, muscular arms he was holding a bundle of blankets.

47 was astounded by the size of this man. He had seen and even fought a fair few large men in his time but they were all dwarfed by this one.

"Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?"

"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sit," said the giant, climbing off the motorcycle as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I've got him, sir."

"No problems, were there?"

"No, sir - house was almost destroyed, but I got him out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. He fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol."

Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Because of his viewing angle 47 couldn't get a view of what was in the bundle but he guesses it was a baby.

"Is that where -?" whispered Professor McGonagall.

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "He'll have that scar forever."

"Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?"

"Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy. I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground. Well - give him here, Hagrid - we'd better get this over with."

Dumbledore took Harry in his arms and turned toward the Dursleys' house.

"Could I - could I say good-bye to him, sir?" asked Hagrid. He bent his great, shaggy head over Harry and gave him what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss. Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog.

"Shhh!" hissed Professor McGonagall, "you'll wake the Muggles!"

"S-s-sorry," sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large, spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. "But I c-c-can't stand it - Lily an' James dead - an' poor little Harry off ter live with Muggles -"

"Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found," Professor McGonagall whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm as Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door. He laid Harry gently on the doorstep, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside Harry's blankets, and then came back to the other two. For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundle; Hagrid's shoulders shook, Professor McGonagall blinked furiously, and the twinkling light that usually shone from Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out.

"Well," said Dumbledore finally, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations."

"Yeah," said Hagrid in a very muffled voice, "I'll be takin' Sirius his bike back. G'night, Professor McGonagall - Professor Dumbledore, sir."

Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorcycle and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night.

"I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply.

Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver lighter. He clicked it once and balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four.

"Good luck, Harry," he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone.

47 sat for a minute and tried to process what he had seen and heard. Unfortunately he was missing most of the background information and could only make the most rudimentary of guess as to what he had witnessed. What he knew for sure was that this Dumbledore character had dumped a baby onto the steps of a house, like a bottle of milk, in the middle of a cold November British morning.

47 quickly made a decision and ghosted down the street to the baby. Standing above the bundle of blankets her could clearly see a baby boy about a year old with unruly black wisps of hair and a lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead. He reached down and opened the letter. 47 read the letter's news of one Lily and James Potter's death and the magical protecti-Magic? Dumbfounded 47 quickly reread that portion of the letter and, under the assumption for the moment that magic was real and this was not a cruel prank, quickly began to piece together the clues he had derived from overhearing Dumbledore and McGonagall's conversation. Magic was the only answer that would seem to fit Agent 47's observations of this morning's events. 47's training would not allow him to immediately discount the possibility of magic and as Sherlock Holmes said 'Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth'. In the back of 47's mind he quietly wondered if Dr. Otto Wolfgang Ort-Meyer used magic to help enhance and stabilize 47's cloned body.

Thinking back to the asylum he grew up in 47 knew them and there that he had to help this child. 47 quickly scooped up the child and the letter and swiftly began to walk back to where he had stashed his car. As he walked 47 began to think about a plain for the future to keep himself and the child safe. 47 knew he would have to retire again but this time he would continue to do the occasional job for the company to keep them happy and to have access to the vast intelligence resources the company had. 47 knew he would need this intelligence to both find out more about magic and keep himself and the child safe from external threats.

* * *

(A/N) Yes I know most of this chapter was taken from HP & The Sorcerer's Stone. I apologize but it was necessary for Agent 47 to witness the conversation between Dumbledore and McGonagall the context of my plot. I felt it was best to keep this interaction as close to cannon as possible.


	2. Escape From England

(A/N) I don't own Harry Potter or the Hitman Series.

Desireejones99 – I have never considered that point before. In my mind McGonagall is a rather unthinking follower of Dumbledore. She will believe anything he says and only offer token resistance to Dumbledore plans. That's not to say that she can't be brought around, she just hasn't at this time.

Update (11/20/15)

I would like to thank user milamber83 for pointing out to me that Cornelius Fudge wasn't the minister until 1990. I also realized that at the time of this chapter Barty Crouch Sr is still the head of the DMLE. I have now rewritten the section in question.

* * *

As Agent 47 and the young Harry Potter Drove away from Little Whinging towards London; 47 was deep in thought. 47 was pondering how he was going to raise the child and how he was going to find a reliable source for information on magic. After driving about halfway back to London 47 decided that he would take a chance and see if the agency has any intelligence about magic and magical society.

47 pulled over at the next rest area and pulled out his laptop form the bag in the back seat. He powered it on and waited for a secure connection to agency servers. Once he had a secure connection he initiated contact with his handler Diana.

"47 how can I help you?" Diana's disguised voice sounded from the computer.

47 hesitated and the slowly spoke "Diana I need to know everything the agency knows about magic."

"Magic? There's no such thing 47." Diana responded but 47 could tell that she was lying.

"Yes there is, and I need to know whatever you know about it." 47 responded hotly.

Diana paused for a few seconds and said "How did you find out? This is way above your clearance level."

47 responded "The name Harry Potter mean anything to you?"

47 could practically hear Diana's eyebrows go up in shock when she responded "You mean the-boy-who-lived. I just got the urgent development briefing about him 10 minutes ago."

47 replied "The-boy-Who-Lived? Why are the calling him that?"

Diana said "You don't know? The magical news is going crazy with the news right now. Apparently the Dark Lord Voldemort went to his house to kill him and his parents last night. All that's known right now is that Voldemort killed his parents and somehow failed to kill the boy. It is believed that Voldemort is now dead." Diana then processed to tell him the basics of the magical world how the agency recruited her because she is a squib.

"Diana, I am currently in possession of Harry Potter." 47 then said.

Diana the responded "How the hell did you come possess the Harry Potter!?"

47 replied "I found him on a doorstep three houses down from my target house." 47 then told her about what he had witnessed on privet drive this morning.

Diana then said "What do you intend to do with him?"

47 responded "Frankly I was thinking of retiring and raising him as my son and apprentice. Of course I was planning on still doing the occasional job for the company both to keep them happy and to retain access to their intelligence files."

Diana sighed and said "I need to bring management in on this. I think it will be a tough sell but I think I can convince them that it will be a profitable plan. Get some breakfast 47 I'll contact you in an hour with management."

"Thanks Diana." 47 said.

"Your welcome 47." Diana responded and then hung up.

* * *

An hour later and a quick stop thru a drive-thru restaurant. 47 was sitting in an isolated parking lot waited for Diana to call back.

47 heard his laptop chime and answered the call. "Hello Diana."

"Hello 47." Diana responded. "It was difficult but I have management convinced. I also have your new orders. You are to go to the Corinthina Hotel London. There you will meet a man in red BWM M5. You are to trade cars with him. Your new car will contain all the required information and documentation to compete your new assignment. Your new identity with be that of Michael Mann, an investment banker who just lost his sister and her husband in a tragic car crash. For this reason you have made the decision to retire to the country side."

"As you were heading to the airport to complete your move to America you stumbled upon an infant. We have both of you booked onto an evening flight from Heathrow to New York City. We have fast tracked your adoption of young Harry and by the time you land in New York Harry will officially be Harry Mann. There you will meet with our plastic surgeon in Harlem who either remove Harry's distinctive scar. From there we have purchased a house in Montana which will give you the space and privacy needed to maintain your training. You are to pretend to be a normal mundane human that does not know about magic. The American magical government will contact you after the first recorded instance of accidental magic. I recommend to use this as an opportunity to have Harry receive a compete magical physical and make contacts in the American Magical Society."

"Do you understand your new assignment 47?" Diana asked.

"Yes." responded 47.

"Then good luck 47." Diana said and closed the connection.

* * *

With the end of the school year behind him Albus Dumbledore was able devote more time to the mystery of why the blood wards he set over number 4 Privet Drive had failed to take hold. While he was curious what let to these event Dumbledore was not overly concerned because almost nobody knew the location of Harry Potter and there was no way he could envision Petunia Dursley rejecting her nephew. He was sure that Arabella Fig's reports of not seeing the Potter boy were exaggerated.

Compounding the problem the books he had on hand about blood magic. They were old, out of print texts and somewhat incomplete in the sections about blood wards. It was such a complex subsection of blood magic that he wasn't entirely sure what could have gone wrong. With the children departed and the staff dismissed for the summer Dumbledore found himself with a mystery and excess time on his hands. With this in mind he decided that he would take today and go and visit the Dursleys and try to determine firsthand what when wrong with the wards.

Upon arriving on Privet Drive Dumbledore immediately cast a notice-me-not on himself so the muggle would not see him as he examined the wards. Standing before number 4 Dumbledore activated his mage sight and gazed upon what should have been the heavily warded house, instead he saw nothing, not even any residual anchors on the property where the blood wards attempted to anchor into and failed part way. This was very troubling.

Dumbledore transfigured his robes into a perfectly acceptable 1930's era suit, dropped his notice-me-not, and rang the doorbell.

Petunia Dursley answered the door and said "Hello, How Can…"before pausing and hissing "YOU".

Dumbledore ignored Petunia's poor manners and asked her "Hello Petunia. I am here to check up on your nephew, Harry Potter."

Petunia replied "What nephew?"

Dumbledore answered "Harry Potter, the son of James and your late sister Lilly. I left him on your doorstep November 1st."

"So the freak is dead then? Good riddance!" Petunia exclaimed. "And I don't know a damn thing about her unnatural son."

Dumbledore was astounded that anybody would think of their family in this way and was stood shocked for a moment before he used legilimency and took a peak into Petunia's mind. Dumbledore then began to delve thru Petunia's memories of November 1st and confirmed that she didn't know anything about the whereabouts of Harry Potter. He also used to opportunity to look through Petunia's memories of her sister and was shocked and the animosity and jealousy that he found. He of course remembered how Lilly would describe her sister but at the time he didn't believe her. It didn't fit his world view of how families behaved so he ignored it as exaggeration.

A shaken and panicky Dumbledore quickly then made his excuses and apparated to the Ministry of Magic. Unfortunately for Dumbledore he was far too late to discover that Harry Potter was missing.

* * *

A flustered Dumbledore was quickly let into the office of the Minister of magic, Millicent Bagnold, by her secretary. As soon as the door was closed he said "Millicent we have a problem."

An exasperated Bagnold replied "What now Dumbledore?"

Dumbledore took a breath and said "Harry Potter is missing."

Bagnold shot up from the slight slump she had been in and looked at Dumbledore with wide eyes. "MISSING!?" Bagnold shouted.

"Yes Millicent. Harry Potter is indeed missing." Dumbledore replied with a sigh.

"How? You said he would be safe. And you still have refused to disclose where you placed him" Bagnold snapped at Dumbledore.

"I don't know Millicent and I thought he would be safe at his aunt's house." Dumbledore was so flustered he failed to realize that he just disclosed where he had placed the Potter boy.

Bagnold shot Dumbledore an angry glaze and tapped a crystal on her desk with her wand and spoke to her secretary "Bell, get me Barty Crouch and get me him now!"

Bagnold's secretary responded "Right away Minister."

It was three minutes later that Barty Crouch entered Bagnold's office and said "Yes Minister."

Bagnold hotly responded "Albus Dumbledore has allowed Harry Potter to go missing. I want you to find him."

Barty Crouch turned to Dumbledore and looked him over with a shrewd eye and said "You had better tell me what you know Dumbledore."

Bagnold and Crouch both spend the next hour in the Minister's office grilling Dumbledore on all his actions and knowledge regarding Harry Potter over the last six months. Unfortunately for all the effort by Barty Crouch and his aurors they would find neither hide nor hair of Harry Potter for the next 10 years.

* * *

(A/N)

My plan for how Harry goes undiscovered is that nobody will recognize Harry without his scar and Dumbledore has completely failed to put any tracking charms on the boy. He is also out of range of any point me spells and owl post. It is only with the extra magical power of the Hogwarts letter does the magical world find Harry Potter again. I believe that the British Ministry would be completely unable to determine if a non magical identity is false or not and would accept 47 at his word of what happened.

This plan will probability develop more as we get closer to Harry's rediscovery but let me know if you see any glaring hole in this plan.


End file.
